


The Choiceless Hope In Grief

by PrideofMtVernon



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Nobody Dies, Raelle x Scylla, Raylla, but it ends with hope, raelle has a lot of feelings but doesnt really know what to do with them, there is angst, which i totally get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:01:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrideofMtVernon/pseuds/PrideofMtVernon
Summary: The anger in that voice. The pain that she had caused. Scylla turned around to look at Raelle. She had thought the ache in her chest couldn't be worse, that the crushing weight she felt should surely be what Atlas bore, but when she met blue eyes, that were once so gentle, that now only looked at her with pain and fury, Scylla discovered how much deeper the heart break could go.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 8
Kudos: 103





	The Choiceless Hope In Grief

It was a warm afternoon. The window was open letting in the breeze and Raelle sat at her desk, doing her best to stay awake. The class was on energy transfer from one organism to the other. It was purely theory and it was incredibly boring. The kind of stuff Abigail would pretend to love and the kind of thing Tally would genuinely like. The class was only fixers though. She felt her eyes droop for the hundredth time when a messenger came in, interrupting the lecture. Immediately they were ordered out of the classroom and to the landing pad. Eight novice fixers and three experienced medics climbed into choppers and to fly south.  
The scene was already chaos when she arrived. Two Spree transports had been heading north from New York when an IED had been set off throwing both transports across the road, both of them catching fire.

Raelle was out before the bird touched the ground, moving to the nearest figure. The woman was bleeding profusely from a head wound and Raelle prepared to heal her. Her work wasn’t canon, but she seriously doubted the person in front of her cared. Before she could start, a hand was on her shoulder and an officer was giving her orders. Raelle looked over to where the witch was pointing. In one of the upturned trucks someone was still trying to climb out.

She moved quickly, eyes stinging from the heat and the harsh smell of burning rubber filled the air. She grabbed the hand of whoever it was and pulled until she could pick them up in a fireman’s carry and move away from the burning wreckage. She set the witch down on the pavement, coughing the smoke from her lungs.  
Her vision was blurred, and her eyes were stinging from the smoke. Raelle could barely see the witch in front of her but she knew she wasn’t moving. Throat stinging, she began to chant. “The door that knocketh shall be opened. The curses brought upon you shall be lifted. The wounds that bleed shall heal.” The link formed almost immediately, and she was plunged into a reality far away from the burning wreckage. 

_  
She was in the catacombs of Fort Salem. Dark stone walls were covered in flickering shadows and pale light and she looked up at her own face.  
Her mouth was set in the smallest frown. She was biting the inside of her cheek like she did when she needed to keep her emotions in check. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. It was her voice that gave the game away, how it trembled when she spoke._

_“I loved you.”_

_She remembered saying those words. Remembered how small she felt._

_Naïve._

_Young._

_Weak._

_How it felt like her chest was caving in, like she couldn’t breathe. It was as if someone had taken her heart and ripped it from her chest leaving a gaping hole that couldn’t be healed by the best fixers in the world._

_This time though, it was from another perspective and when the Raelle that stood in front of her said those three little words her world caved in on itself. Because Raelle believed everything they told her. Because Scylla had betrayed her. The one good thing she had found, and she had corrupted it. She should’ve known better.  
Dodgers don’t make connections, Spree don’t make connections, Scylla didn’t make connections._

_But it hadn’t been about the mission. She loved Raelle. She could explain, she could fix this, she-_

The link broke and Raelle scrambled back, trying to regain her bearings. The heat from the fires was back, the air smelled of smoke, and her vision was clear. In front of her, dressed in civilian clothing, was a woman she thought she would never see again. The woman who betrayed her.

Scylla stirred, blinking slowly. A confused frown crossed her face. “Rae, what are you doing here?”

Scylla tried to sit up and Raelle remembered where she was, why she was there. “Scylla, lie down. You’re hurt.” She had been knocked unconscious in the crash and smoke had filled her lungs. Glass shards spotted her arms with cuts. “You need to lie still.” Raelle centered herself and began again. She felt the link attempt to form again and pushed it away, seeking the injuries covering Scylla’s body, a concussion, bruised ribs, choked lungs, she bore it all.

The transport back to base was quick, efficient. The Spree agents were admitted to the infirmary. The War College students were told to debrief and return to class, provided they were physically fit. Raelle felt drained. Like she had been responsible for healing everyone rather than just Scylla. It hadn’t been the spell that fatigued her, nor the stringent training that the Unit had been put through that morning. She lay back on her bed, on top of the covers, to tired to remove her boots.  
She wasn’t sure how long it was until Tally and Abigail came in, one after the other, laughing about something Glory had said. “Raelle, you should have been there,” began Tally. The red head frowned when she looked at her and gave Abigail a concerned glance.

“You alright, Collar?”

 _No. She wasn’t._ Part of her wanted to be left alone and her Unit would let her be if she told them that. Another part of her was grateful for their arrival. It grounded her and pulled her head from thoughts of blue eyes, soft brown hair, and clever smiles. “I was in the fixer unit that got out to assist the Spree transport.” Raelle sat up and swung her legs to the floor. She folded her hands, rested her elbows on her knees. They needed to sweep again. Specks of dirt covered the white tiled floor. Every training session in West Field brought in more mud.

“We heard about that, but,” Abigail moved closer, almost hesitant. “People said everything had gone smoothly. The Spree agents were sent to the Fort Salem infirmary and none of ours were injured.”

“The mission was fine. Probably the most straightforward thing I’ve ever been called out for.”

“Then what-“

“Scylla was there. One of the Spree agents was Scylla.” Her statement was met with silence. Tally and Abigail looked at each other, both at a loss as for what to say. “I didn’t even know she was still alive. Alder was sending her to Gitmo or going to execute her and now she’s in the infirmary like none of that even happened.”

“Are you sure it was her?” asked Tally. “Don’t Spree sometimes use other people’s faces?”

Raelle shook her head and lifted her gaze from the floor. “She knew who I was and when I tried to heal her, I…” she cleared her throat, still trying to process what she had seen. “We linked when I was healing her. I saw her memories. It was definitely Scylla.”

“Shit,” said Bellweather and Raelle nodded in agreement. That bed creaked slightly as both girls sat down on opposite sides of their fixer.

“What are you going to do?”

Raelle shrugged, folding and unfolding her hands. “I don’t know. Other than the fact that I know it’s a lot and that its messy, I don’t even know how I feel about her. I said goodbye. We were deployed. I hadn’t really figured out how I felt about the whole situation and that was when I thought I was never going to see her again.”

“You could start with questions.” She turned to Abigail, waiting for her to elaborate. “How is she alive, for starters. And I know you talked with her before, about the fact that she’s Spree, but things are different now. Obviously, I’m not Necro’s biggest fan and that seems to become truer every time she comes up but…she’s important to you. At the very least, you’re going to need closure.”

“Damn, Bellweather, when did you become so emotionally intelligent?” Tally laughed and Abigail smiled begrudgingly. “I guess I’ll go find her then. No sense in waiting.”

“Do you want us to come with?”

She shook her head. There wasn't any sense in waiting to see Scylla and Abigail had a point: Raelle wanted answers, needed closure. Scylla had left an ache in her chest that didn't seem to heal with time. "Don’t wait up."

"So that's it then. You were just going to leave? Not say anything?"

The anger in that voice. The pain that she had caused. Scylla turned around to look at Raelle. She had thought the ache in her chest couldn't be worse, that the crushing weight she felt should surely be what Atlas bore, but when she met blue eyes, that were once so gentle, that now only looked at her with pain and fury, Scylla discovered how much deeper the heart break could go.

"I mourned you." Her voice was hard, trying to hide the tears that threatened to overtake her. "Alder wanted you executed. You were as good as dead."  
Scylla wanted to reach out and touch her, to wipe the tears from her cheeks, to tuck loose hair behind an ear, but she was frozen. Her feet were cemented to the ground where she stood. Her throat too tight to even think of speaking. 

"You let me think that you were gone. Why would you... Was I really just a mission after all?"

"No." She was surprised at how forcefully it came out. But it was absurd to even utter, as if Raelle Collar could ever be just a mission. "I loved you. I'm in love with you." Every carefully honed instinct told her to run. Spree don't make connections. Dodgers don't make connections. Scylla doesn't make connections. She pushed the thought away. "I had my orders to recruit you. Falling in love with you was never part of the plan."

"And you didn't think that I would want to know that you were alive?"

"No, I didn't."

Raelle's eyes widened in shock and she seemed off guard for a moment. Scylla kept talking. Pushing past the hurt and the scars and every alarm bell that said keep her distance. Dodgers don't make connections. "The last time we talked you were clear about how you felt. I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't think about it without feeling sick. But I couldn't blame you for it either." Her heart hammered against her ribcage, her hands shook, she grit her teeth to form an illusion of control. “Besides, I figured someone would have told you by now. General Collar or Anacostia.”

“My mom knows?”

Scylla frowned. She couldn’t say she was surprised. General Collar’s approach to her daughter’s emotional wellbeing could hardly meet Scylla’s approval. Even so, why not mention it? “Willa was, is my commanding officer. She was the one who sent me to…to recruit you. I didn’t know it was her until I escaped Fort Salem, otherwise I would have told you.”

Raelle bit her lip and shifted her weight, irritated with the additional layer of secret keeping her mother seemed to be engaged in. “Well, no, she didn’t mention it. And Anacostia hasn’t been on base for weeks. It’s temporary, but Alder sent her overseas as a liaison.”

The two stood in silence. The tension was evident in their body language. Scylla was apprehensive. Straight posture, hands behind her back, constantly fidgeting.

Raelle bit the inside of her cheek. Her arms were crossed, and shoulders raised. "I lied." Raelle met her eyes hesitantly before darting away again. The pain was still there, but the fury had made way for grief. "When I said that I didn't love you anymore, I was lying." Scylla stepped closer, hands stuffed deep in her pockets, afraid to touch Raelle without thinking. Raelle loved her. Still loved her. But it couldn’t be that simple. Loving someone doesn't take away the heartbreak, or the betrayal, or the anger. Loved didn’t mean forgiven or trusted or wanted. "Why didn't you deliver me to the Spree?"

Scylla frowned and pursed her lips. She should have delivered Raelle to the Spree, should have followed orders. Raelle might still hate her but at least she would be safe. "I hate the military because they enslave witches as war meat and kill those who resist. The Spree gave me the chance to fight against that, but...I was afraid that I was just trading one violent war machine for another. I'm not naïve, Raelle. The Spree are brutal. They were so set on me taking you to them I was afraid I was sending you to a different but equally violent, unjust death. That's why I hesitated, why I chose you.

Headlights appeared in the distance, shining through the soft dusk on an otherwise empty road. Raelle stepped forward close enough to touch. "When will you be back?" It was asked quietly, tinged with only a glimmer of hope. Mournful blue eyes wouldn't meet her own.

"Whenever you want me."

They stood together, not touching, each refusing to meet the other's gaze for longer than an instant. "I'm sorry." Scylla opened her mouth to question Raelle, what on earth could she be sorry for. "I shouldn't have abandoned you. I should have found some way to-"

Scylla pulled her close, wrapping arms around tired shoulders. Raelle was tense only for a second before slipping arms around her waist and leaning into Scylla. "I'm okay. I'm alive. We both are. Focus on that, alright?"

It had hurt when Raelle had doubted her, had doubted what they were, but she couldn't blame her. It had felt like a knife to the chest, dull and jagged, tearing at her broken heart, but it didn't compare to what she felt when she saw the hurt in Raelle's eyes, when she heard the pain her voice, when Raelle said Scylla had made her feel weak.

An old Toyota pulled to a stop next to them. Raelle kept her hands around Scylla's waist as she pulled back. Scylla tucked blonde hair behind an ear and traced a stubborn jaw line. She jerked her head to the idling truck. "This is me." She fiddled with Raelle's collar. It was never straight. It was a miracle the girl ever passed inspection. “Fort Salem should have the phone number for the safe house by now. Call me if you want to talk.” It took all of her self-control, but she stepped back and got into the truck. “Tell Tally and High Atlantic I said hello.” Raelle smiled sadly and Scylla watched the rearview mirror until the other witch was out of sight.

**Author's Note:**

> You did it! What was your favorite line/comment/characterization? I love this ship and I want to know how the show is going to handle it. Anyways, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.


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